


His Greatest Mistake

by Madredhattie



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Alcohol, Black Hat and Demencia are both horrible people!, Established Relationship, F/M, Inspired by Fanfiction, featuring the horrible offscreen maulings of two innocent people, gets a bit raunchy at the end there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madredhattie/pseuds/Madredhattie
Summary: Demencia comes flouncing in to Black Hat's office while he works on untangling the messy collapse of a subsidiary, bearing mail and wine. He indulges her whims, but this woman has an ulterior motive.





	His Greatest Mistake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maximum_overboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Tipping the Scales](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722889) by [maximum_overboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner). 
  * Inspired by [Tipping the Scales](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722889) by [maximum_overboner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner). 



> This is, essentially, a fanfic of a fanfic. Double fanfic. Fanfic squared. Fanficception. If you haven't read Tipping the Scales by maximum_overboner yet, I highly suggest you do before continuing! Otherwise this may seem, ah, a bit OOC!

Business was a fickle beast, beholden to the whims of consumers and the chains of supply. Black Hat knew this well - he had built his company and mastered the art, but even he could slip up on occasion. In retrospect, he should have shuttered the branch of the company specializing in orphan-feasting arachnids years ago. It appealed only to a niche market and orphans were, sadly, becoming far less common as time went on. Keeping it running had been a mistake on his part, he had to admit. But only to himself.

Still, those clients who demanded spidery guards trained specifically to hunt down the ever-common parentless hero paid, and they paid well enough that maintaining such a specialized branch had been profitable. And so he’d kept it active, turning out horrors with a preference for the flesh of miserable wretches who were sorely lacking in both mother and father departments.

It had been going well enough, until one day it all went tits up. 

Two weeks had been devoted to untangling this web, and still he wasn’t clear on the full picture. He had barely allowed himself time for anything else. The problem initially emerged, he concluded, when the specialization became too specialized. Raising arthropods with a single food source in mind eventually would lead to creatures that would not eat anything else.

That did not account for the sudden disappearance of the main production facilities’ staff (hired for the special quality of having both parents healthy and alive), the apparent embezzlement scheme that had brewed under his nose, what appeared to be the involvement of multiple heroic entities, and a strangely persistent stench of garlic at the empty site.

Black Hat growled and leaned back in his chair, pinching the gap between his eyes. Two weeks on this. The money loss wasn’t substantial, but the embarrassment was. This wasn’t a child chimney sweep situation, where wretched things like child labor laws had seen to the end of the business - there was still a market. To have a branch of his company, even one so minor, fail without warning could not stand. He would get to the bottom of the matter, and deal out retribution.

And yet here he was, only a few hunted-down corpses closer to solving exactly what had managed to collapse a section of his _esteemed_ organization. Black Hat sighed, teeth like knives carving his breath into a hiss. He picked up the top page of the latest printouts Flug had provided, data pulled from devices that Demencia had brought back after taking care of the perpetrators he had been able to track down.

The door creaked open and Demencia sauntered in, as she did in the mornings she awoke in her own bed, hands behind her back. Black Hat looked up, a slight flutter he was still not used to rattling around in his ribs and temporarily banishing his foul mood.  
She stopped on the other side of the desk and pulled her hand from behind her back, waving a stack of letters with a grin. Black Hat ignored the slight pang that she held her distance, not leaping at him to deliver her usual morning affections. He was used to it, that was all, he told himself, trying hard to believe it. It was merely irritation that she was behaving differently today, during a time when he was already cross enough. Black Hat pushed the thoughts aside.

“Ah, the mail. Finally. I could use a break from poring over this tangled mess.” Black Hat set aside the paper and reached his hand out. Demencia obliged, presenting the stack of letters to him. Their hands brushed, Black Hat holding the contact for a few seconds longer than truly necessary. He waited for her to vault the table, to smother him in the affectionate greeting he’d come to more than tolerate. When she made no move to do so, he pulled away and set about perusing the letters in his hand, clamping down on the returning sting.

“It’s nearly ten. Was the postman late today?”

“Nah, he was on time, but when he saw me waiting he hopped right back in the truck and sped off! Didn’t even make it to the gate! It’s like he thought I was gonna thrash him or something.”

“I wonder where he could have possibly gotten that idea.”

“Dunno. Anyway, I chased him down and thrashed him.” Demencia smiled widely, a conspiratorial look dancing across her face. She leaned against the table, positioning herself in a fashion that accentuated her curves. “Anything interesting today?”

Black Hat snapped his gaze away from her. If she wasn’t going to jump the desk and smother him in affection, he would not indulge her flirtations. She should be pampering him in this irksome time! He stole another glance and finished his browsing.

“Most of this isn’t for me.”

“I grabbed a little extra!”

Black Hat nodded. “Mail theft is an egregious violation of the trust people place in a vital institution, excellent choice.”

“Aww, Hatty!”

He waved her off, but there was a small upturn to the corner of his mouth. He pulled a letter out at random, happy to indulge in the gross violation of private correspondence.

“Let’s see here. A postcard!” Black Hat cleared his throat, doing nothing to counter the rasp in his voice. “ ‘Dear Johnny and Alicia, sorry we can’t make it to your 1st anniversary celebration. You are both in our thoughts as we sip margaritas here on the beach. Fondest regards, the Bruners.’ Ha! A rejection letter.”

Black Hat cackled, always pleased to be party to the misery of others. Demencia joined him, her laughter ringing alongside his. They sat in mirth for a moment longer, enjoying the looming disappointment for a pair of strangers. As he finished, Black Hat grabbed another envelope, slicing it open with a claw, eager to see what other personal matters he could pry into.

“Here’s another one - oh, it’s got money in it.” He tucked the bills into his coat. “‘Hey Johnny! Congrats on tying the knot one year ago - wish I could be there on Saturday for your big shindig, sounds like it will be a blast! Here’s some sweet moolah for you to buy Alicia something nice, winky face’.” Black Hat sneered in distaste. “What year does he think it is? ‘Moolah.’ Pah.”

Demencia leaned forward. “Dude, did he actually write out winky face?”

Black Hat held the letter out. “See for yourself.”

“Haha, holy shit! He really did! What a loser.”

“Isn’t it pathetic? I’m really doing this couple a favor, keeping this garbage from reaching them. Perhaps I’ll pay a visit and request compensation for being subjected to this. The party is this Saturday, isn’t it? The marriage clearly isn’t going well if they feel the need to have such a celebration after a single year.”

A frown flitted across Demencia’s face, but it was gone before Black Hat could place the reason for it. She tilted her head. “Why’s that? A year’s kinda a big deal, right?”

“If things are going well, no. But throwing what is, in essence, an encore wedding? They’re desperately trying to salvage the dregs of the relationship by reenacting that initial spark. Gather friends, family, make a big declaration of how in love they still, hoping that enough people believing it will make it true. Look, this one’s a returned RSVP letter."

He picked out a third letter, embossed in elegant script and announcing a wonderful reception in shining gold letters. On the back, a checked decline box. Demencia reached for it, taking the letter and snickering. “Man, this party’s gonna be such a bust. We should totally go liven it up.”

“Perhaps.” She lit up, delighted in a fashion Black Hat found himself rather fond of these days. Especially, he thought to himself, when he could dash it against the ground. “Don’t get your hopes up, though. I am very busy these days.”

Demencia shrugged, not crumbling the least bit. “Eh, if we don’t go they’ll still be miserable ‘cause of everyone who isn’t showing. Anything else interesting in there?” She pointed at the stack still remaining, a conspiratory smirk tugging at her lips.

“More of the same. Did you even get the mail addressed to me, or did you forget that’s the point of fetching the mail?”

“I did! See!!” She reached over, keeping one hand firmly pinned behind her back, and shuffled through the letters, sending several flying. After a moment, she triumphantly pulled a darker envelope out, presenting it proudly.

Black Hat took it, confirming with a glance that the correspondence was, indeed, addressed to him, and turned his attention back to Demencia and her conspicuously hidden arm. He sighed.

“Whatever you’ve got hidden behind your back better not be more of Joshua and Alice’s mail. Why did you even grab all these?”

“Haha, nope, it’s not more letters.” She whipped her hand out, presenting a bottle of wine with a flourish. “Ta-da!"

Intrigued, Black Hat accepted the bottle, rolling it over in his hands.

“Where did you get this?”

“Bought it with your money. That really fancy card you have, the one you like to use when you’re flaunting how rich you are.”

He sputtered in shock. “That- that is for my personal usage only! What if a client had seen you with it! What were you thinking?!”

Demencia giggled, unperturbed by the possibility of exposing a deeper connection between herself and Black Hat than was publicly visible. She rested her hand on her chin.

“Your face is so cute when you’re upset!” She cooed. “Like a puffy little snake! I’m kidding, though. I totally stole it.”

Black Hat settled back into his chair, muttering darkly about lizardy birds and their tricks aimed at riling him up. He could not find it in himself to object to her assessment.

To distract from such thoughts, Black Hat turned his attention back to the bottle in his claws. He looked it over, silently approving of her choice. “How did _you_ , of all people, manage to pick this particular Cabernet? It’s far above your class.”

Demencia shrugged, the jab rolling off her as they always did. It no longer bothered him, not entirely. “I just grabbed the most expensive bottles and sipped ‘em. Picked the one that tasted most pretentious.”

“How does something taste pretentious.”

“You know, like, the wine that makes you think the most about a bunch of dudes in fancy suits sitting around and being snobby about grape booze having different tastes! Even though it all tastes the same.”

Black Hat raised an eyebrow, indulging her strange, fascinating logic. “If it all tastes the same, how can you tell the most pretentious?”

“It’s all in the feeling ya get, honey. You know what I mean.”

“Do I really, Demencia?”

She flapped a hand at him. “You’re such a tease! Anyway, I grabbed an unopened one, smashed the rest, went to the checkout, then split the guy’s head open with the cash drawer!”

Demencia rooted about in her hair, producing a wad of rust-stained bills. “Check it out - blood money!”

She laughed at her joke, tossing the cash onto the desk. Black Hat chose not to point out the proper definition of blood money, or that the cash was now effectively useless as legal tender barring a vendor who wouldn’t ask questions. He would allow her this perceived cleverness. After all, she certainly earned it with this particular gift. An expensive brand, rarely seen outside the most expensive of gatherings.

“I’m feeling rather indulgent at the moment, so why don’t we give this bottle a try? See if your ‘pretentious’ assessment holds any water.”

Black Hat jabbed a claw into the cork, popping out easily and setting it aside. A quick snap of his fingers, and two glasses materialized in front of him. Demencia gazed lovingly at him, the look of awe and admiration at such a small display of his powers making his insides turn so pleasantly. He puffed his chest out a bit, briefly preening in her adoration, and filled both glasses. He handed her one, which she accepted eagerly, and held his own up.

“A toast, to Joseph and Allison’s collapsing happiness!"

They clinked their glasses. Black Hat sipped lightly from his and watched in dismay as Demencia downed the entire glass. She wiped her mouth with her hand.

“Yup, tastes like pretentiousness! What do you think, Hatty?”

“Have you ever, in your life, so much as been in the vicinity of proper etiquette?”

Demencia frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Black Hat pinched the gap between his eyes. “You don’t just _chug_ wine like some college brat attempting suicide by way of alcohol poisoning - there’s a _process_ to it.”

“Seriously? For a drink?”

“I shouldn’t expect someone of your background to know better, I suppose, but yes. There is. You need to appreciate the wine before you drink it. Here, you can try it again.” He poured another glass for her, which she gladly accepted, staring intently at the wine. Black Hat began to instruct her. “Now, before drinking, you give it a swirl, see how the color plays, and then-”

Demencia, staring intently at her glass, whirled it around with vigor, before drawing down a sizeable swallow, not waiting for Black Hat to finish. She grinned.

“Huh! Wow, it really does taste even more pretentious now!”

“...You didn’t let me finish.”

“I appreciated it. It looked nice, and then it swirled nice, and then I drank it.”

“You have to be gentle with it, woman! Don’t splatter red wine all over the place! And you need to give it a sniff before tasting - wine is more than just taste!”

“Why’re you so intent on making me act all proper all of a sudden?” Demencia swirled her glass none too gently, creating a severe sloshing risk. “It’s not like anyone really cares about how I act- oh. Oh! _You_ do! You want me to look nice, like a proper lady, so we match!”

Black Hat bristled, a slightly darker grey tinting his cheeks. “It’s a matter of company image! I have a reputation to maintain, and I have been sorely lapsing in making sure you uphold it as well.”

“Ya don’t think people are going to notice me being all weirdly fancy?”

“I am capricious and fickle, suddenly demanding decorum from my _employees_ is well within my right!”

“You never did it before.” Demencia batted her eyes at him. 

He had no response to that. “Again.”

She sighed as he filled her glass back up, swirling the liquid with more finesse this time, taking a disconcertingly audible whiff, and before Black Hat could bark at her, gulped down a mouthful.

Black Hat despaired.

“A sip, Demencia! Just a sip! Do you know what a sip is, or did Flug remove that section of your brain when he crammed you full of reptile?"

“Sipping takes forever! How’re you supposed to get wasted off this stuff if you’re just kinda skimming it every half hour?”

“Wine isn’t about getting drunk, you blithering moron! It’s a classy drink, one that accentuates the flavors of food! You must savor it!”

He growled, exasperated. “If I give you a demonstration, would that be something your lizard brain could follow?:

Demencia clicked her tongue, cheerful as ever. “Sure, Hatty. I can totally do that. Show me!”

She was playing with him, he could tell. Still, he raised his glass regardless.

“Hold up your glass and admire the red. Give it a swish - gently, you’re not an animal, not entirely - and take a smell of it.” He flicked his tongue out over the glass. “Appreciate the fine scent, and then, only then, do you take a _sip_.”

Black Hat did so, demonstrating the proper amount of liquid to imbibe. “Can you do that, Demencia? Is a visual guide enough for you?”

She nodded, gripping her glass delicately, and preparing to follow his instruction. Within seconds he stopped her.

“Why are you sticking your pinky out so boldly? No one has done that in years.”

“You told me to copy you!”

“I don’t do that!”

“You’re doing it right now.”

Black Hat opened his mouth to argue, realized he was, in fact, holding his pinky out, and clamped his jaw shut. Demencia guffawed. “You didn’t even realize!”

“I-! It was in vogue in the past, I got used to the motion!” 

“How long ago?”

“...18th century.”

Demencia whistled. “You really are an old man, aren’t you?”

Black Hat moved to protest that he was not _old_ , he was quite in his prime and would continue to be so, and that simply living through the entire course of human civilization did not mean he was decrepit. He only barely started when Demencia chose to follow the rest of his guidance, swirling her glass, pondering it, and then, keeping in her mimicry of him flicking her tongue out, her eyes locked on his.

Black Hat sighed in resignation.

“I don’t think you’re grasping the proper technique.”

“There’s other things I could be grasping instead,” Demencia purred suddenly, lidding her gaze and smiling salaciously over her glass. Black Hat hissed sharply, her tone drawing forth his desire for her lips, her breasts, her legs, her laughter, her delight, her smile. He tamped it back down, cursing himself for how easily he succumbed. They hadn’t had the time in the last two weeks or so for anything more than the briefest of moments, company obligations taking precedence for both of them at his demand. With greater reluctance than he cared to admit, Black Hat resigned himself to more time without her writhing beneath him, their bodies pressed together.

“Later, Demencia. Your failure to grasp basic etiquette aside, this has been an… enjoyable diversion,” he admitted, “but I am going back to work.” 

Demencia leaned forward, giving him the sultriest look she could muster. “Don’t you think you deserve more of a break?”

“It’s only a matter of time until someone is stupid enough to question to my face exactly what happened to their spider supply and I want this all swept under the rug by then.”

“Could just kill ‘em. I’ll do it for ya!”

“This is why I’m in charge of business decisions and you’re in charge of removing livers at my direction. Consumers don’t continue to purchase when they’re dead.” He rolled his shoulders. “I haven’t slept in days.”

“You don’t need to sleep.”

“But I enjoy it. Can a man not bemoan the lack of simple pleasures?”

Demencia huffed. Ah, finally, there was some irritation breaking through. “I can give you more than simple pleasures, and you know it.”

“Later.”

She slapped the desk. “Hatty, come on! You’ve been at this for days! I’ve been snapping spines and crushing skulls for you all week!”

“And I will continue to be ‘at this’ until such time as my wrath is sated. That reminds me; I’ve got another name for you to hunt down. Chop, chop.” Black Hat reached into his coat and pulled out a small note. He handed it to her. She didn’t take it.

Black Hat growled. “Demencia. Your job.”

Still, she made no motion to take the note. Instead, she glanced at the wine, then the letters, and then Black Hat. “You know, I kinda thought you’d figure it out by now.”

“Figure what out.”

Demencia gave him a thoughtful look, muttering to herself. “Was there something else I should have brought? Mail’s a given, drinks for a nice touch, what else is there...?”

Black Hat could take it no more. He slammed his hands down, rising to his feet. “I’m done with your games, you wretched woman. Wine, letters, you haven’t even made so much as an _attempt_ to jump my dastardly bones! What are you playing at?!”

She slapped her forehead. “Ugh, I knew I was forgetting something! Candles!”

“ _Demencia!_ ”

They stood there, eyes locked, Black Hat fuming. Demencia stayed silent, seemingly lost in thought. Then, she lit up. Black Hat’s lips curled into a slight snarl. “What is it now.”

She smirked coyly and batted the neglected mail off the desk, and laughed. “Guess I gotta pick it all up now!”

She bent over, wriggling her behind, and it all fell into place.

Years were arbitrary to him. They came, they went, over and over, on and on without end, and he watched as they flitted by. At first he had ascribed no meaning to them, eternal as he was, treating them as a measurement suited merely for the mortals he tormented. But as years and years passed by, he found himself learning to appreciate their meaning as mortals did. He could certainly understand the desire to celebrate a great achievement again and again; after all, who wouldn’t want to remind the world of the times they’d wreaked havoc and struck fear into all? Or perhaps something more simple, such as the founding of a company. An annual event to preen about his greatness to all.

It had been a year since she had sauntered into his office, bringing with her the mail. A year since she, once more, exercised her wiles on him. A year since he had finally, foolishly, given in.

A year since his greatest mistake.

He never meant to become attached. He hadn’t known it was possible. And yet, he would catch himself thinking of her, her smile, her laugh, her devotion, her cruelty. Her fragility. All things came to an end, Black Hat the sole exception. Frequently he was the architect of such ends. He could not be directly brought low by any, rising once more with a laugh and a cruel retribution. But now, there was a path to cutting through the veil of his power. An indirect one, but one nonetheless.

A weakness. A target, painted on her back, invisible to all but him, hidden from sight. A dangerous secret.

A thrilling secret. New, exciting, strange, something he had never before experienced in his millennia-long life, an injection of vibrancy into an existence that continued without change, ever on top and never challenged. Sensations he had not, could not have known before her. How her smile twisted his gut in delightful, painful fashions, ways not even his horrific contortions could ever imitate. How her laughter rang like a sweet, sickening song, never grating no matter how piercing it was. How her body, warm and strong, pressed so perfectly against his.

Demencia batted her eyelashes at him. His greatest mistake. 

Black Hat swept his arm across the desk and lunged over it, paperwork and glasses and ill-gotten wine alike forgotten and clattering to the floor. He seized Demencia by the collar, pulling her forward, crushing her lips against his. She met him eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck and locking him in an embrace.

He could taste the wine on her breath. He drank it up, keeping her crushed against him, digging his claws into her shirt. She pressed back, hand moving to the back of his neck, rubbing that most delightful of spots until his chest began to thrum.

Black Hat broke the kiss to allow her to catch her breath. He dove his face into the crook of her neck, running his long, monstrous tongue along her skin. Demencia gasped and moaned as he left a trail of saliva up to her chin. Mind fogging with a now-familiar haze, he opened his mouth and lightly pressed his teeth into her skin. She shivered at the sharp pricks, not enough to break her flesh, and drew her hands back to blindly fumble at his buttons.

“Thought you had work to do,” she teased, undoing his vest. Black Hat paused in his ministrations to wrap his arms around her, pulling her into his lap as he sat.

“I’m Black Hat. If anyone pries beyond my liking, I’ll kill them.”

“God,” she breathed, wrapping her legs around him and pressing down to feel just how much he wanted her, “that’s so hot.”

He growled, and she caught him in another kiss, working his coat off his shoulders. He shuffled it off, fingers dancing up to her hair and twining into the long locks. He gripped tightly and pulled her head back, granting himself a view of her face. This fascinating, maddening, adoring woman. Black Hat leaned forward.

“Out of curiosity,” he hissed in her ear, “what happened to the rest of your ‘blood money’?”

“Oh,” Demencia said, smirking as she reached for her zipper, “you’re about to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Johnny and Alicia haven't been getting their mail for a week now.
> 
> This was SUPPOSED to be done for Christmas but a combination of events including family obligations and writing resistance made it late. So! New Year's it is!


End file.
